


I'm So Glad It Was You

by didipickles



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Gift Exchange, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not The Office, Office Party, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 15:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: David and Patrick have been working together for about six months now, and they've gotten very close. At the office holiday party, something happens with the potential to change everything for them. And oh, is that mistletoe hanging above them?





	I'm So Glad It Was You

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver) collection. 

> **Prompt:**  
Office holiday party and everyone did secret Santa. Patrick gets David the perfect gift which makes David look at him in a new light. They end up a little buzzed and kissing under the cheap mistletoe before things escalate in the empty copy room.
> 
> I owe so much of this fic to this-is-not-nothing. Thank you for brainstorming, beta-ing, and being there.
> 
> Title from ["Anyone At All" by Carole King](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpZxRa-yetU)

Two hours. Only two hours stood between David Rose and four glorious days of vacation. Those two hours might also contain a terrible party (renamed the "holiday shindig" in Roland's effort to be inclusive to the non-Christians in the office) and cheap wine and bad food, but on the other side - freedom. It wasn't necessarily that David didn't _ like _the terrible office parties. For the most part, David actually enjoyed the company of his coworkers, and the parties were charming in their total lack of self-awareness. Roland might be occasionally uncouth and obnoxious, but no one could say he didn't go out of his way to make things fun. The frankly astounding array of decor around the office proved as much. But David had been looking forward to a solid four days of relaxing in bed, taking ridiculously long baths, watching predictable Hallmark movies, and just generally being free of the expectations and demands and judgments of his normal life.

He'd just shut off his computer and was clearing off his desk when he heard a familiar voice. "What are the odds someone gets drunk enough to throw up before the end of the party?"

Grinning, David looked up to see Patrick Brewer leaning against the doorframe. "I think the better question is _ where _will someone throw up." That drew a snicker from Patrick, and David pushed away the desire to watch his mouth for longer than strictly appropriate for a coworker.

"I'll make sure any projectile puking stays away from your sweater," Patrick quipped, and David rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

While David was friendly with many of the other people in the office, he'd hit it off right away with Patrick. They worked in different departments - David in design and marketing, Patrick in legal - but they'd gravitated together the first time they met. Patrick was sharp and quick-witted, but kind underneath all his teasing. It had been six months since Patrick had transferred into their branch, and David still clearly remembered the day they were introduced: Patrick’s firm handshake and quick smile, the immediate banter that screamed _ ‘we’re on the same level.’ _ After that, Patrick kept finding reasons to wander to the design department and David kept volunteering to attend meetings with the legal team. Things just clicked. David loved having a friend in the office, someone who truly _ got _him, who laughed with him instead of at him, who smiled wide whenever David showed up in his office. Every Monday, Tuesday, and Friday they went to lunch together at a little diner they'd found down the street from the office. 

Of course, David’s life was never going to be easy, so he couldn’t leave well enough alone. It would be far too simple to just have a colleague who happened to be a friend. No, David had to go and catch _ feelings _for him. Talking himself out of it had been unsuccessful, so now David existed in a perpetual state of craving Patrick’s presence and dreading it. He’d never been great at feelings, and especially not when they were directed at someone as deep-down good as Patrick. The last few weeks had brought no less than three separate close calls. Three different times when David was millimeters away from saying something to give away the game, to ruin one of the pitifully few good things in his life. Two weeks ago, David and Patrick had been at lunch, sitting in their usual booth, when Patrick announced that he was paying for David’s meal. When David asked why, Patrick had said “because you deserve for someone to buy you lunch.” While it wasn’t the first time Patrick had done something remarkably kind, the air felt charged, different somehow, as though Patrick wasn’t saying everything. On the walk home, the air still carried an air of unsaid electricity. Patrick had turned to David and laughed at some stupid joke one of them told, and for a brief moment David thought he saw Patrick look down at his lips, and everything in David urged him to close the distance. Luckily he’d caught himself in time. This party though...cheap wine and cheese cubes had potential to fuck everything up. 

Two hours. David just had to keep his feelings from sloshing over his hardened edges for two hours. 

Conversation flowed easily as they made their way to the gigantic, lavishly decorated conference room. Most of the employees were already milling about, tapping together red plastic cups and toasting anyone and anything. A small stereo in the corner played instrumental jazz while Roland moved from group to group, laughing too loudly and trying too hard. David felt a brief pang on his behalf until Roland turned to him and said "Dave" with a wink. Ugh. 

Patrick gave the room a nod and then nudged David. "I'll go get us drinks." David didn't even have time to say what kind of drink he wanted before Patrick was gone, leaving _ 'us' _hanging in the air without the slightest notice that a pleasant prickle was spreading over David's skin. Instead of standing there gaping after his coworker-turned-friend-turned-crush, David sidled up next to Twyla, who was standing by the food table and passing out paper plates and smiles. Twyla was an enigma to David: she was unfailingly friendly and considerate to everyone around her, and somehow still had the highest sales in the company. Maybe being a people person helped, David mused.

When Twyla handed him a plate, David cleared his throat. "Could I, um, get a second plate?" 

Twyla handed it to him with a kind look. "The plates are too small, aren't they?"

For a second David looked at her, deciding if he needed to explain, and then shook his head and gestured over toward the minibar where Patrick was chatting with Ray from HR, who had taken his usual place as unofficial bartender of the office party. "No, uh, not for me, I'm, um, getting Patrick a plate?"

Without missing a beat Twyla nodded. "That's very nice of you, David," she said, and David knew that Twyla saw right through him. Huh. Maybe that's why she was a killer at sales.

As quickly as possible, David loaded up the two plates, mostly cheese on his and mostly veggies on Patrick's. If he stopped to think about it, this was probably more intimate than what most coworkers did - getting each other drinks, knowing each other's snack preferences, communicating across the room without a single word. But now wasn't the time to stop and think about it. No, that could wait until David was three glasses of wine deep into a bubble bath. For now, he traded the plate for the cup Patrick held out to him and followed Patrick to an open table. 

Soon they were joined by a few other people, and David marveled at how easily Patrick existed as the center of attention. David loved getting attention, but often found that he didn't quite know what to do once he had it. But Patrick took it in stride, putting everyone at ease, and David blamed the flush rising up his neck on the wine. Certainly not on the way Patrick's knee kept bumping David's under the table, or the private smile he gave David after a joke, or the offer to get them both another drink. God, David really needed this vacation.

Just as David's cheap wine buzz set in, Roland called the room to attention and announced that it was time for the secret Santa gift exchange. Over the past few weeks, people had been sneaking in their gifts, and David was actually looking forward to giving his. When he first pulled the name and saw it was Ronnie from sales, he panicked. Ronnie wasn't especially big on sharing, and David would seem awfully suspicious if all of a sudden he started asking her about her taste in clothes or bath products. Luckily for David, Patrick was exactly the kind of person who paid attention, who learned what your favorite brand of soda is, who knew how you take your coffee. With a little (okay, more than a little) help from Patrick, David was feeling confident.

Ronnie's face cracked into one of her rare genuine smiles when she opened the bag David handed her. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff. Come to mama," she said, cradling the chardonnay to her chest. Instinctively, David looked over at Patrick, who winked and nodded. Fuck, why did that _ do _something for David? Pulled back to the moment, Ronnie gave David a punch to the shoulder and a fond "thanks, kid." 

With the giving portion of the exchange out of the way, David wandered over to Patrick and looked around. “So Ray had you, right? I saw him give you your gift.”

Patrick nodded and held up a book. “I mentioned wanting to read this about a month ago, and he remembered. Pretty great.”

David answered with a noncommittal grunt as he kept scanning the room, watching to see who would make their way to him so he could get his gift and be one step closer to leaving. “Wonder who has me,” he finally voiced.

“Right, about that,” Patrick said. He sounded almost nervous, and David turned to him curiously. In all the time he’d known him, David hadn’t ever heard Patrick sound anything close to anxious. When he turned, Patrick was holding out a bag with a look of pure apprehensive unease. “Surprise.” 

Shit.

“You...I’m who you got?” David’s voice had risen substantially and he saw a few nearby heads swivel. After swallowing and taking two deep breaths, David spoke again. “I, um, feel bad for you. I’m impossible to shop for.”

Patrick cracked a half-smile. “Wow, thanks David. That definitely makes me feel better about watching you open my gift right in front of me.” His smile faltered a little as David took the bag from him. “It’s really nothing, it’s just…”

Before he had the chance to run far from this room and Patrick’s warm brown eyes, David opened the bag and pulled out a frame. On the left was a receipt, and on the right, a picture with Patrick’s messy scrawl on it. David looked closer and realized the receipt was from the day Patrick had bought David lunch. Eyes widening, David looked back over to the picture. It was of the diner, taken from across the street. Over it, Patrick had written: “Don’t forget - you deserve to be bought lunch." All the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing on David’s chest and pricking uncomfortably at his eyes. He didn’t know what he expected in the gift exchange, but it wasn’t...this. He hadn’t expected Patrick to have him in the first place, and certainly hadn’t expected to feel _ seen _ and _ understood _from such a small and simple gesture. Maybe David hadn’t misread the signs that day after all.

When he finally trusted himself to look up, he found Patrick’s eyes trained carefully on him. David cleared his throat. “This is…” He shook his head, unable to find the words for what this meant. “It’s not nothing.”

Patrick’s face went soft for a moment, and then he looked like he was steeling himself. “You’ll have to let me buy you lunch again sometime. Or maybe dinner.”

Before David had even a second to process or respond, Twyla walked by and pointed up. “Oh, look! Roland hung mistletoe this year.” She had that same killer instinct in her voice that David had detected earlier. Then just as quickly, Twyla was gone, leaving them alone.

They both looked up and saw a skimpy bough of mistletoe directly over where they’d been standing. David laughed uncomfortably and started to take a step backwards, but then Patrick’s hand was on his arm, rooting him to the spot with his touch. Their eyes met, and David felt a swooping sensation in his stomach as Patrick gave him the same look he’d given him walking home from the diner that day. Part smile, part something else that looked like hunger. Patrick’s eyes dropped to David’s lips. At the same moment, they both leaned in. Patrick’s lips were soft and warm, the briefest touch of them enough to send a fresh frisson of energy over David’s nerves. The kiss only lasted a second or two, but everything in David screamed that this was not the last one. 

When they pulled apart, Patrick looked somehow younger, sheepish and proud all at once. He kept his eyes on David and darted his tongue out to lick his lips while David watched, transfixed. A wolf whistle came from somewhere to David’s right, and the realization flooded in: they were in a room full of their _ coworkers. _Fuck. Just as the panic started to well up in his chest, Patrick’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey,” Patrick said softly. “Do you want to, uh, find somewhere a bit quieter?”

The tight clenching in David’s stomach dissipated just a little. Patrick didn’t immediately pretend nothing happened or push David away or laugh it off. No, he was looking at David with impossibly hopeful eyes, and how the hell had anyone ever been able to tell Patrick no to anything when he looked like that? David nodded and turned on the spot, heading straight for the door. Unfortunately he was still four steps away when Roland appeared out of the crowd with a smirk and a glint in his eye. 

“Leaving the party already, Dave?” Roland leaned in close and David could smell olives and fondue. “Hey, just make sure you don’t, you know, _ get busy _on my desk,” he intoned, and David pulled back, horrorstruck. 

“Oh my god, bye Roland, have a good vacation, see you next week,” David said, reminding himself that Roland was his boss. Don’t hit the boss. As David left the room and listened to Roland and Patrick say their goodbyes, David realized he didn’t know if he actually _ could _punch Roland. That seemed more like it was in Patrick’s wheelhouse, with his thick fingers and strong forearms and...no, not yet. All of his coworkers were still on the other side of the glass. Those thoughts would have to wait. 

If David was entirely honest with himself, he was terrified. Terrified that at any moment as he and Patrick walked the empty halls that Patrick would stop him and explain that this was a big misunderstanding, that Patrick didn’t mean to kiss him. Terrified that he might lose a friend he’d come to care about and respect more than he intended. Terrified that rumors would spread through the entire party before David had a chance to figure out if there was something _ to _spread rumors about. But as they stopped off in Patrick’s office to leave his book from Ray there, David felt a sense of unfamiliar calm settle over him. Patrick had kissed him, Patrick had given him a thoughtful gift, Patrick had said he wanted to buy David dinner. Patrick was still Patrick, and David was still David. 

“So, that. Um, you. We,” David stuttered. Very smooth. Patrick gave him another half smile and then nodded toward the glass separating his office from the hall. 

“Not to be presumptuous here, but could we maybe go somewhere without glass walls?”

Unhelpfully, David’s jaw dropped and his stomach did another uncomfortable swoop. Did that mean what David thought it meant? He opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding. Patrick just smiled and walked back to the hallway, gesturing for David to follow him.

They walked in silence, David’s mind and heart fighting to see which could race faster. Patrick seemed too calm, too collected, and David was struck with an urge to rip all that cool confidence away and see underneath, to strip Patrick down to a needy begging mess. His train of thought was interrupted when Patrick turned and walked into the abandoned copy room. Once inside, Patrick’s bravado apparently reached its limit. He looked down at his feet and rubbed his hands together, radiating nervous energy. David took a step toward him, uncertain still of what this was. “Patrick,” he ventured, soft and quiet. He waited until he had Patrick’s eyes. “You don’t...that doesn’t have to be anything,” David said, waving his hands toward the hallway. “Just coworkers enjoying an office party.” It broke David’s heart a little to consider that might be what Patrick wanted, but a seed of hope kept him from breaking completely.

Patrick’s face fell and he dropped David’s gaze again. “Oh. Yeah, if that’s...if you want.”

Okay, this clearly was not going the way either of them intended. David took another step forward and Patrick’s head snapped up, his eyes large and sad. Slowly, David shook his head. “That’s not what I want. What do you want?”

Cliche be damned, time slowed down as Patrick’s face transformed and lifted. The seconds stretched delicately as Patrick looked at David, really _ looked _at him, and then stepped forward to close the distance. “I want to kiss you again,” Patrick whispered. His eyes darted between David’s eyes and his lips, and David’s entire body vibrated with the need to be closer.

“So do it,” David said, his voice barely audible even to his own ears. 

Instead of immediately moving in, Patrick took his time. His left hand lifted and slid up David's arm to his shoulder while his right hand came up to gently cradle David's jaw. The soft whirring of the copy machine accompanied the harsh tattoo of David's heart as Patrick's eyes drank in every inch of David's face. Patrick couldn't keep his eyes in one place, sliding from David’s lips to his eyes to his chin to his hair. It was almost too much, too intimate, to be examined this way, but David realized with a jolt that he didn’t want Patrick to stop. He wanted Patrick to look.

After an eternity of looking, long enough that David felt raw and laid bare, Patrick moved closer. His lips, soft and sure, brushed against David’s in something entirely different than the party. Patrick knew what he wanted, David could feel it. He felt it in the way Patrick’s lips pressed in more firmly, in the hand tightening on his shoulder. He felt it in the soft sigh Patrick breathed against him when he pulled back. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Patrick said, quiet as a secret. The words reverberated in David’s chest, and he didn’t get to respond before Patrick was kissing him again. This kiss came with the barest hint of Patrick’s tongue at David’s lips, and David realized he’d moved his hands to Patrick’s strong shoulders. His nails dug in when Patrick’s hand tightened on his jaw, directing him and tilting him so Patrick could deepen the kiss. Goosebumps rose on David’s skin when Patrick’s teeth lightly tugged at his bottom lip. One of David’s hands automatically slid up onto the back of Patrick’s head, and when he scratched experimentally was rewarded by Patrick practically _ purring _into his mouth. “Wow,” Patrick whispered when he pulled back, panting already.

This was dangerous. David knew if they went any further his heart would be completely and utterly compromised, left to the whims and devices of this man. Well, fuck caution. With one hand on Patrick’s shoulder and one in his short hair, David maneuvered them so he could sit on the table next to the copier. He spread his knees and pulled Patrick close, a little thrilled that he had to look upward to see him now. Even in the dim lighting coming in from the hallway, David could see Patrick’s ears and neck had bloomed a gorgeous pink. God, he _ really _wanted to add some purple and red in the mix. But he stopped himself, looking up and watching Patrick watch him back. 

“So. This is the copy room,” David said when the eye contact became too much. What a fucking charming line, well done David, he thought rather unhelpfully. Luckily Patrick laughed, leaning forward to drop his forehead against David’s.

“Very astute observation,” Patrick hummed back, moving in to kiss David long and slow before pulling back again. “I don’t want to, uh, assume anything here. But, uh, could...could I? Could we…?”

With the tiniest smirk, David cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that how you get such good sales numbers? With your impressive ability to speak in full sentences?”

He could tell immediately he’d done the right thing in telling a joke. The mood shifted slightly, and Patrick’s shoulders dropped a bit. “You know what, you can hush.”  
  
“Mm, can I, though? You might have to give my mouth something else to do.” It was out before David could realize what he was implying. Shit, fuck, shit shit shit. Well there goes the relaxed energy he’d literally _ just _brought in.

Patrick’s eyes widened as he looked down at David. “I could kiss you again,” he started. “Unless you meant something else. Which. I could also, uh, give you.”

Such a goddamn button. David smiled and leaned up, coaxing Patrick into another kiss. As he did, he moved his hands around to the front of Patrick’s slacks. One hand rubbed softly against the front, feeling the obvious interest there, while the other slowly pulled Patrick’s belt open. “Is this...is this okay?” David whispered against Patrick’s lips, and felt him nod. “I need. I need you to say it.”

“David,” Patrick murmured. “It’s okay. It’s...I want it. You.” As he spoke, his hands moved into David’s hair, experimentally tugging at the crown of his head. David’s whimper was swallowed up by Patrick’s lips, pressing more insistently against him now. When David finally got the belt free and opened the front of Patrick’s pants, he pulled away from the kiss. Patrick smiled and nodded, and David dropped his eyes as he pushed the pants down around Patrick’s thighs. He was wearing soft blue briefs, stretched now by his cock. The outline of it was enough to pull another whimper from David before he leaned in to mouth over it. Patrick hissed, his hands tightening in David’s hair. “Shit.”

David stopped, darting his eyes up. “Still okay?”

Patrick’s voice was hard-edged and full of fire when he responded. “Fuck yes.” Something in the openness of the response sent a shock through David, and he slid to his knees. These weren’t his favorite pair of pants anyway. He leaned in, this time kissing above the waistband of Patrick’s underwear. He gave a light nip there, and then, slow enough to ache, pulled Patrick’s cock free from his briefs. Patrick was thick, deep pink and dripping. Carefully, reminding himself not to rush, David licked at the tip, swirling around the slit and humming at the taste that burst across his tongue. Above him, Patrick was taking measured breaths and letting out tiny high-pitched sounds. 

Alternating between gentle licks at the head and peppered kisses down the length, David took his time getting to know Patrick’s responses. When he nosed at the base, Patrick inhaled sharply. When he took one of Patrick’s balls in his mouth, Patrick scraped his nails against the nape of David’s neck. When David finally, finally spread his lips and took Patrick between them, Patrick let out a shuddering sigh and jerked forward slightly. The sound was deeply gratifying, and David took him deeper, testing out the weight and heft of him on his tongue. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Patrick’s dick was incredible, considering the way he carried himself with all the confidence in the world. David smiled as he thought it, his lips curling up around Patrick’s cock. He glanced upward and found Patrick staring at him, mouth open. The general debauchery of the moment looked fantastic on Patrick - dim lighting from the hallway, Patrick’s button-up pulled up and his pants around his thighs. With a quick kiss to the tip David pulled back.

“How are you doing?”

Patrick shook his head, his lips still parted. “Please, David.” God. David wondered for a second if Patrick knew that those two words would get David to do just about anything right now. As an immediate response, David moved back in and took Patrick’s cock about halfway, bringing his hand up to grip the base. He started a rhythmic bobbing motion, testing out the pace to see what Patrick responded to, what made him gasp, what made him whimper. The gentlest hint of teeth under the head opened the floodgates, and then Patrick couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Oh my god, David this is so good, fuck, you are so good, I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t - fuck! I want to make you feel good, I’ve been so into you, I wanted you, I want you, I want, I want, I want!” 

David kept pace with Patrick’s words, figuring if Patrick could still talk, David needed turn things up a notch. Patrick’s voice died out when David pushed himself forward to take Patrick’s entire cock in his mouth and throat, swallowing around him. The fingers in David’s hair had tightened almost painfully, and David was so fucking hard in his pants. The barest brush would set him off, but it wasn’t about him. Not yet. David looked upward with his mouth still full and saw Patrick was hunching forward slightly, awe on his handsome face. David hummed and Patrick’s eyes rolled back. He tugged harshly at David’s hair and then came a second later. Carefully David pulled back so he just had the head of Patrick’s cock in his mouth and he kept swirling his tongue as more and more flooded in. Patrick was shaking, and David’s knees had started to ache, but nothing else mattered. Nothing but the way Patrick was petting the back of David’s head and mumbling something. After a moment, Patrick sank to the floor, hissing when his ass made contact with the cold tile. 

“Shit!”

Snickering, David shifted so he was sitting with his back against the copier. “You okay?”

Patrick looked like a fish flopping around trying to pull up his briefs and pants, and David was still so, so hard. While Patrick got his clothing in order, David quickly opened his pants and stuck his hand in, gritting his teeth at the relief of friction. He’d just started to stroke himself when Patrick finally sat back up. Patrick’s eyes went wide for a moment, and then narrowed. He crawled over and batted David’s hand out of the way.

“This is _ my _turn, thank you very much,” he grumbled, and David wanted to make a comment about how he could try to sound a bit happier but anything he was going to say caught in his throat when Patrick’s thick, strong fingers wrapped around his cock. The angle wasn’t ideal and the rhythm wasn’t what David would have done on himself, but Patrick was here. Touching him. Looking at him with hunger and desire. It took about 30 seconds before David came, panting and digging his fingernails into his palms. 

He slumped back against the copier, chest heaving. Patrick was looking at his hand almost curiously. After giving David an unreadable look, Patrick brought his hand up and licked it. His eyes widened and he tilted his head. “Not bad.”

The absurdity was too much, and David burst out laughing. “Great. ‘Not bad’ is what everyone wants to hear after their first sexual experience with someone they like.” The laughter kept coming until David realized Patrick was watching him with a small smile. “What?”

“So you like me.”

“Um, thought that was kind of obvious by now? What with the whole kissing and copy room blow job?”

Patrick let out a delighted laugh. “I cannot believe we just did that. And that Roland knew we were leaving together. I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye for weeks.”

Something in David’s chest collapsed just a little. “Nobody has to know.”

“What? No. Hey, David.” Patrick went to reach out and then apparently realized he still had come on his hand. With a frustrated grunt he looked around until he spotted a roll of paper towel on the table, pulling it down and wiping his hand off. He reached out again, gingerly touching David’s shoulder. “I like you too. I have for a while.”

And then Patrick was leaning in and kissing him again, steady and slow, as though it was the most important thing in the world. When they parted, David closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Patrick’s. “Guess we’re going to have to talk to Ray when we’re back next week,” he said, daring to hope.

Patrick nodded against him. “In the meantime, can I buy you dinner tomorrow?”

Vacation suddenly looked even better.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @thedidipickles and twitter @didipickles2


End file.
